A Ball in the Attic
by Yukitoshuu Itsumademo
Summary: A Oneshot piece. Yuki ponders over his feelings for his little lover, and how scary it is to have such a tacit relationship with no words needed...that is, before they come pouring out. Also published on under my name: yukinshu4e


A Ball in the Attic

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I know I'm a cold-hearted bastard; I know I'm a selfish prick. It'd be stupid of me to try and hide that, so why does he keep coming around? Why has he held on for so long? I push him down, put my cigarettes out on his shirt, all to drive him away, pretending that he's the one that doesn't deserve to be with me. It's a lie, though. Nothing I've done deems near to deserving what he has to give.

I don't deserve anything anymore, but he wants to be with me for some reason, and I want to make him happy. Of course, I wouldn't be caught dead telling him that, but he makes it clear that all he wants is my love. He's gotten pretty clever about wheedling it out of me over the years, too, like the last thing he said to me before we both fell asleep last night:

"The one thing I want most in this world, is to say: 'I love you too, Yuki.' To hear you say those words to me, and to be able to say them back; it would mean more than anything to me to be able to do that."

The shell around my heart almost broke forth when he said that, but all I could do was huff in response. It hurts me to not say it to him, but my brain has become too strong in shutting my heart up.

I'm so weak. I can't even tell the one person who means the most to me in the world that I love him.

I love him.

I love him.

I love, Shindou Shuichi.

Every time I fuck him, I'm showing him what my mouth can't tell him. He may be terrible at sex, but he's so passionate. I want to burrow myself in his heart and stay there for the rest of eternity, in the only place I know that is safe.

For too many years, Kitzawa Yuki held my heart, beyond the grave. He didn't hold it, though. No, Yuki tore it apart, stabbed it, fucked it over…kind of like I did to Shuichi. I was acting out the pains I was feeling from my deceased Sensei. Every emotional rollercoaster Shuichi went through, I rode with him, because really we are one in the same person. He got fucked over by me, and myself by my sensei, even if Yuki never had the chance to fuck me. How do I feel about it now? I think I'll always be devastated, the way Shuichi reacted when I "dumped" him for Touma. Shuichi knows it, though, but there's one thing where he and I differ…

He's stronger than me. Fuck, he got raped to save my name, and I was never actually raped. Molested and scarred, yes, but after the memory of that night returned, I realized those filthy men had never stuck cock in me. They never touched me…

But Shuichi, oh Shuichi. He told me what they did to him, or maybe I forced him to tell me, I don't remember, but he said that they beat him till he was blue everywhere, and then they fucked him for hours straight. They fucked my boy; raped my innocent little lover. I wanted to kill them, and I almost did. I don't remember much of my little meeting with Aizawa Taki and his chimps, but I remember clutching a roll of film and telling an unconscious Ma-kun to take care, before I saw him…Shuichi, dressed up in a school girl's uniform, for me. After he was raped, he was doing it for me. It was more than I could handle.

"Tadaima!" I heard from the foyer as a door slammed shut. He was so loud I could hear him even through the door. I didn't move from where I was lying on the bed; I couldn't, not with all the emotions weighting themselves on me. Instead, I lay there, occasionally lifting my left hand to my mouth to take a drag of the cigarette that was quickly extinguishing in my hand. I heard doors open and close, feet running up and down the hall and I knew my little lover was looking for me. Still I did not move, knowing he would eventually find me.

God, Shuichi. He was so fucking annoying sometimes…but why had he been given to me? My karma was so bad, I never expected to ever be given someone like him to bring me back to life. What did I do to deserve him? Fuck every woman in Japan? Write so I could support my alcoholism and chain smoking?

"Yuki?" I heard from the doorway as he peeked his head in. "Yuki, is something wrong?"

Slowly, I turned my head to look at him. Fuck, he was gorgeous. I reached over to the nightstand, still not answering him, and put my cigarette out in the ashtray I kept there. He made his way over to the bed and touched my arm gently, making me flinch. That small movement made him jolt back, retracting his arm and apologizing profusely for scaring me. He stopped babbling when I looked up at him and stared him hard in the eye, telling him to just shut up and come here.

He did.

I don't know when it happened, but we both could now read each others' mind. It was kind of scary at first when I first realized how well I knew him, and worried that he could read me just as easily. For a few days I had backed away from him, trying to push him further from me in order to protect myself. Obligingly he distanced himself, knowing exactly what my intentions were. That small gesture made something in me snap, realizing he would never hurt me, even if it meant he'd leave me alone forever. Hell, if I committed a seppuku 1, I know he'd follow me right away. I knew then, that I'd never get rid of him, because I wouldn't want to. Life without Shuichi would be too painful, and I never wanted to go through that again.

I buried my nose into his neck as I pulled him against me. He sighed and snuggled against my shoulder. Moving my nose from his neck, I traced it along his jaw, his cheek before I brushed his nose with mine, brushing my lips across his without kissing him. It was so intimate, and I couldn't believe it was me who was doing it.

He surprised me by not saying anything as I continued to nuzzle him, only breathing softly and letting me pet him slowly. These languid motions I was playing on him stretched over time and seemed to pause everything around us. I strayed away from his face and moved back to his neck, nibbling gently before allowing my tongue to slide against his skin. This produced a low growl from my little lover as I sucked at his neck, leaving a mark there to tell the world he was taken by me.

He's mine.

I rolled him over so I was above him, and he reached for my buttons, fumbling to remove my shirt. I let him, and soon we were both naked and writhing against one another. Reaching over to the nightstand where we also kept the lube, I took this moment to look at my lover, my better half, and the man I could never live without again. I wanted to tell him that I loved him, but my tongue restricted the sound in my throat. It choked the word and forced it back into my heart, and I was afraid I'd never be able to tell him just how much I loved him.

Tracing his opening with one slick finger, he moaned and clutched at the sheets, his eyes rolling back into his head when my finger entered him. Back and forth, in and out I pumped into him, my heart twisting in my chest with the emotion I felt as I watched him gasp and beg for more beneath me. I couldn't have held onto my sanity if I'd tried, and soon I felt myself between his legs and pushing into him.

I thrust into him again and my shell broke. There was nothing my head could do to stop the words coming out of my mouth, spurting forth like a geyser. It was as though I'd been locked in an attic for years, only seeing rays of light, but finally someone threw a ball through the window, shattering the glass…and I was free.

"I love you, Shuichi." I heard him gasp and I buried my face in his sweet-smelling hair. "Oh, God, I love you."

"I-I love you too, Y-Yuki," he choked out.

I made his wish come true. The one thing that would make him the most happy in the world, I did it, and I couldn't stop myself, even if I tried.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," I breathed into his ear as I thrust into him over and over again. He clutched to my shoulders, pulling us together tightly and stuffed his head in the crook of my neck. The noises he made were muffled between gasps and sobs, but never had he sounded more beautiful than all the times we'd made love.

I love Shuichi; I'm not letting him go.

"Yuki—" he breathed in my ear, making me shudder. I released him a bit, not realizing I was squeezing him to the point of making him pass out. Never again would I let him go. He was stuck with me, and he'd never be able to shake me off.

"Yuki…" he moaned again and caught my eyes with his. Tears had taken up the space not inhabited by flesh as I felt the same pressure behind my own eyes as they filled up.

I huffed, feeling my orgasm building up before it exploded. One look at my lover as he fell into the pure bliss of ecstasy was all it took for me to lose all control over my body. I'd never experienced this before, not even with Shuichi.

Letting my weight drop forward, he accepted it, latching his arms and legs around my back and knees. I pressed a kiss to his temple as he pushed my hair back from my eyes. The move was so gentle, like a mother stroking her child's hair. A fleeting image of Shuichi holding a small pink bundle with black hair flitted through my head, and I had to suppress a chuckle.

He felt it anyway and said my name in query. I shook my head and told him it was nothing. Accepting my response, he closed his eyes and drifted away. Allowing myself to give into my heavy eyes, I followed my lover into sleep, still imagining him holding a small child…something I'd never before allowed myself to imagine. Yes, I was never letting him go.

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1 (Japanese: 切腹, "stomach-cutting" or "belly slicing") is a form of Japanese ritual suicide by disembowelment.


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